More Than Words
by xXxAnInspiredWriterxXx
Summary: A rewrite of Golden Silence: Santana is mute but she never used to be. She only stopped talking a couple of months ago so the question is, why now?
1. Prologue

**Hey guys. This is a re-write to Golden Silence. At first, it was going to be Santana lashing out and everything but then I had the idea of where she just suddenly stops talking altogether so I'm changing it to that. There will be a story behind it and it will come out in the end. Anyway, I hope you still like it :) **

Prologue

Santana wasn't overly sure what made her stop talking. She remembered the last person she spoke to and she remembered the last words she said but that was it. Her parents hardly spoke to her anymore, they weren't really sure what to say or do. They were eating dinner that night when Maribel brought up the conversation about a speech therapist.

"I think that'd be a great idea," Emilio agreed with his wife and dabbed the Spaghetti sauce away from his chin with his handkerchief.

Santana glanced up and continued to stir her spoon around her bowl.

"A what?" Santana's little brother asked. He'd finished his dinner and was now playing on his portable video game.

"A speech therapist, Cruz," Maribel told her youngest and wiped his mouth. "A therapist for people who don't talk."

"But Santana used to talk," Cruz pointed out.

Santana shifted uncomfortably in her seat and got back to eating. She didn't want to be involved with the conversation. She didn't want to see a therapist. If she didn't want to talk, then she didn't have to.

"What do you think Sweetie?" Maribel asked. She knew full well that she'd get no words out of her daughter's mouth but part of her secretly hoped that Santana would say something, even if it was just one word.

Santana just shrugged, avoiding eye contact with everyone.

"They can help you," Emilio encouraged her. "If you can't tell us why you've stopped, at least tell them."

"We can come with you," Maribel said but Santana just shot her a look, as if to say no way. "Well...How about Quinn? Or Brittany? You'll need someone with you."

"Just leave her," Emilio whispered as quietly as possible, but Santana heard him.

Santana pushed her bowl away and nodded at her mother. Maribel smiled and nodded back, allowing Santana to get up from the table and head upstairs to her room. Emilio looked shocked and shook his head at his wife.

"She asked if she could leave the table," Maribel told him. "And I said yes."

"How did you understand her?" Emilio asked.

"A mother knows," she said. "Now finish eating so I can do the dishes."

"Will Santana ever talk again Mom?" Cruz asked.

Maribel shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know Love. Maybe one day, I hope. We're getting her the help that she needs though."

"She used to read me bedtime stories," Cruz said. "I miss that."

"I know," she sighed heavily and ran her hands down her face. "But she will talk again some day. I promise you. She will."


	2. The First Therapy Session

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Chapter One: The First Therapy Session

"So, do you know why you stopped talking?"

Santana said nothing. Instead, she just remained seated and stared at the woman in front of her with a blank expression. She fiddled with her necklace nervously and quickly turned away to avoid eye contact. Mary was nice but Santana hated the idea of having to have therapy, just because she didn't want to speak.

"You don't have to say anything," Mary reassured her and gestured to the notebook on the desk. "You can write it down." Santana didn't even pick up the pen. "Have you ever thought about writing? It's a good way of expressing how you feel without speaking the words." Santana kept up the silence and soon a beeping sound was heard. "That's our time up Santana," Mary sighed and stood up from her chair. "Come on. I'll walk you out."

Maribel was sitting in the waiting area, flicking through a magazine. She stood up immediately when Santana and Mary exited.

"How'd it go?" She questioned, giving Santana's shoulder a rub.

"Santana, take a seat," Mary told her. "I just want to talk to your mom for a second."

Santana faintly nodded and crossed her arms, before taking a seat at the far end of the waiting room.

"Is everything okay?" Maribel asked anxiously. "Did she speak to you?"

"No," Mary sighed and shook her head. "No. I um...I didn't get anything out of her. She just sat there. Look Mrs Lopez, could something have happened in Santana's childhood that made her stop talking?"

"No," Maribel scoffed. "No. Nothing. Why would you think that? Are you accusing me of hurting my own child?"

Santana glanced over at her mother and rolled her eyes.

"No." Mary held her hands up defensively. "I am not accusing you of anything. I'm just saying that sometimes children and teenagers stop talking because of something that happened as a baby or toddler."

"Well..." Maribel shrugged her shoulders. "I can't think of anything, no."

"I'll book her in for another session next week," Mary suggested. "Just keep an eye on her. I know for a fact that she will talk when she's ready. Does she have any support at school?"

"She doesn't need it," Maribel said. "She's fine within herself and she's top of all her classes. She just doesn't talk, that's all."

Mary nodded. "Okay," she whispered and looked over at Santana. "Have a good day at school. Okay?"

Santana nodded and stood up. Maribel paid the money and the two of them headed back out to the car. They made a quick stop for lunch and then were on their way to McKinley. It was about one o'clock by the time they arrived and the students were just heading back to classes.

"Are you going to be okay?" Maribel asked. "You can stay home. I don't mind. You can just go in tomorrow."

Santana shrugged her shoulders and opened the car door, smiling reassuringly at her mother.

"Okay Sweetheart," Maribel sighed and leaned across to kiss her cheek. "Have a lovely day. I'll pick you up later."

Santana climbed out of the car and grabbed her bag. She slammed the door shut and raced up the steps to the entrance, sending a quick text to Quinn to say that she'd arrived. Quinn and Brittany were by the lockers as quick as a flash.

"Santana!" Brittany squealed with excitement and skipped over, pulling her in for a tight hug. "I missed you this morning," she said and pulled away from Santana.

"I bet she missed us too Britt," Quinn giggled and wrapped an arm round the blonde. "How was therapy?" She asked, whacking Santana's arm playfully. Santana shrugged. "That bad, huh?" She asked. Santana nodded and smiled a little. "Yeah. At least you missed school." Santana stayed silent, pointing down the corridor and nodding at Quinn. "Yeah, go ahead. We'll see you in Art class." Shooting both girls a smile, Santana headed off.

"Where is she going?" Brittany asked.

"Bathroom," Quinn told her.

"How do you know what she's saying?" Brittany asked and folded her arms. "I'm her best friend and I don't even know what she's saying."

"I've known her longer though, haven't I?" Quinn pointed out. "Santana stopped talking when she was about seven or eight. Not altogether but she had what you called selective mutism so she didn't talk that much. I just kind of got used to it, I started to understand what she wanted."

"Oh." Brittany looked disappointed.

"Don't get upset B," Quinn said. "Santana's mom and myself are the only ones who do understand Santana. It just takes time."

"Yeah," she sighed. "Let's just go to class."

Quinn smiled and wrapped an arm round her shoulder, as they made their way to Art class. Santana was already sat in there at their usual table. Kurt and Rachel were talking to her.

"We were just asking how her session went this morning," Kurt said to Quinn, when they walked in and sat down.

"I think it went okay," Quinn said. "It probably went better than you think San. You'll get more used to them."

"We have a glee club rehearsal later," Rachel reminded Santana. "Are you coming?" Santana faintly nodded and opened up her sketchpad. "Good. We're working on a new setlist, which should be exciting."

"As long as Mr Schue hasn't chosen Journey again," Quinn mumbled jokingly under her breath. Santana smiled and nodded in agreement at her. "Are you okay?" Quinn asked Santana. She just nodded once again. "Meet me in the quiet room after class, yeah? We can chat. Well...I'll chat and you can listen."

By the look on Santana's face, Quinn knew that she badly wanted to say something. There was just something inside of her though that was stopping those words from escaping.


End file.
